Lessons of the Heart
by Redd Summers
Summary: B/S When Dawn is targeted and Buffy’s left in the hospital, it’s up to Spike to keep the promise he made to Buffy the night she died. To protect Dawn until the end of the world… even if it means his own death.
1. prologue

**Title: Lessons of the Heart**

**Author: Redd Summers (ReddSummers@yahoo.com)**

**Rating: PG-13**

**Summary: _Set after the end of "__Normal__ Again" then AU._ When Dawn is targeted and Buffy's left in the hospital, it's up to Spike to keep the promise he made to Buffy the night she died.  To protect Dawn until the end of the world… even if it means his own death.**

**Spoilers: Anything is up for grabs, people.  I do not intentionally put spoilers in, but realize that they may show up.  The whole 6 seasons thus far. Do not worry about future spoilers, I do not read anything posted about unaired episodes.  Mere speculation and inane hopes.**

**Feedback: Constructive. I welcome comments as well as criticism, don't be shy, just don't be rough. Let's keep it all hugs and puppies.  
****Distribution: Vampyr Dust.  Everyone else: Want? ASK. Take. Have. I don't mind this being reposted somewhere else, but I do want to know where it's at. And I must be properly credited.**

**Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all the characters associated within the show were created by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and FOX. Any resemblance to persons either living or undead is strictly unintentional.**

**Authors Notes: **Once known as _"Near Dawn,"_this story has largely developed since my first idea for this story.  Unfortunately, I have a very hard time writing when I don't know anyone is reading.  If you review, I'll love you forever!  Seriously, it's terribly daunting to write for no audience, so please let me know about what you like and what you don't.  This will be novel length eventually, but it's in it's baby stages right now.  Review to make it grow!**  
  
**

Lessons of the Heart [Prologue] 

The steam rose from the ground, plumes mixing with the salt sodden ocean air creating an intoxicating fragrance rare to find in Southern California this time of year.  The smell of fresh rain, wet grass, and tangy salt mixed together forming an unholy alliance in the air.  For a seemingly charming place called Sunnydale, this was just one more thing to add to the list of all things unholy.

           Gathered in a clearing deep in the density of the forest, a handful of rather large demons came together in the form of a giant pinnacle.  Each demon carried the burden of wearing a bulky set of three different robes, each more ornate than the previous layer.  They handled thick black and green candles, the flames dancing on the wick with the slight movement of the chilly wind.  Their green skin glowed in the dim yellow light, casting eerie shadows across their already eerie forms.  They had bulging black eyes that seemed to suck in any stray light, as if they were black holes in space.  Five stood in the pinnacle – only these five remained of their once proud warrior culture.  

From the silence of the J'teniu, the leader, located at the head of the pinnacle, began chanting.  The incantation was long and overdrawn, like most magickal rites.  Calling the powers, seeking the elements, and communing with the Universe itself was just hard enough to say a few actual phrases of a particular ancient language and then stretch it out with utter bullshit.  The prominent religions on the planet realized that all you had to do was say one well placed Latin phrase and you could set things on fire or levitate objects with your mind.  Of course, to counter-act this, in light if the general public knew, chaos would most certainly follow, they recorded magickal rites so insanely drawn out and pompous sounding that most of the population wouldn't try.  They were too lazy.  Added to the fact, most of the religions currently held contempt for the "old ways" and labeled any real practitioner of the dark arts as following Satan or whatever they believed to be evil.

As the leader finally spoke the ending words, the other four demons bowed their bulbous heads and chanted along with their leader. "So mote it be," formed from a low guttural repetition until the air around them froze the flames of the candles.  Each demon looked to his candle, gazing with astonishment, seeing the peaked ball on the end of the candle.  This is what they came for.  This was the sign.

The leader broke the silence by throwing his hood back and laughing with a fervor of happiness. "The sign!  It is true, brothers.  Our time is at hand!"

The demon off to his right raised his candle as if it were some kind of prize.  The others followed his actions.  When at last the leader raised his candle, he screamed out to the sky "Show us!"

Lightning shot from the previously dormant rain clouds, filling the sky with a shockingly bright white luminosity.  The lightning played in the air, as if it tried to change its destination by itself.  Finally, after the slight resistance, a single bolt shot down to the ground, and in a blaze of fury and fire, it split and arched in five different directions.  Each candle tip exploded in fire, the ice incinerated instantly, and each demon felt the harsh electricity as it covered their leathery skin and coursed through their veins.  One by one, they fell to the marshy ground into a deep unconscious state.  The leader was the last to fall, and just as the darkness claimed him, he saw the answer to his plea in his mind.

Now he was certain.  

The Key _was in Sunnydale; being protected by the Slayer no less._

His eyes rolled up and back into his head as the darkness claimed him. 

_To Be Continued…_


	2. Lesson the First

Lessons of the Heart

[Lesson the First]

_"Love does not begin and end the way we think it does.  
Love is a battle; love is a war; love is growing up."_

-- James Baldwin

The golden sunlight trickled in through the soft curtains to shine upon the sleeping figure twitching in her sleep.  Her chestnut brown hair wrapped itself loosely around her slender, pale neck as she twisted in her cotton sheets.  Her lean body responded to the mental commands issued by her mind to get away from her attackers.  She cried softly in her sleep as though she was reliving the reality of her tortured past.  Alarm rose within her.  Her body tensed, heart fluttered, and her adrenaline screamed.  

She awoke with a start.

           Sitting up in her bed, the young girl simply relished in the fact that it was all a dream.  She unhooked her hair from around her neck and tried to calm herself from her nightmare.  She hated nightmares.  She looked over to her alarm clock and sighed with annoyance when she realized she was up an hour before it was necessary for school.  She tried to recall what she had dreamed about, but all she could remember was the face of Glory.  She shivered at the thought of her.  She would give anything to forget the evil hell god, but in a way, her very existence as Dawn Summers was because of the woman who set out to bleed her to death atop a tower built by her brain-sucked victims.  _No mental scars here, she mused bitterly._

           Finally slowing her racing heart, Dawn cleared her mind of all thoughts of Glory.  She intended to have a good day.  Well, as good as it can get on a Hellmouth.  She kicked back the sheets and stretched her long arms and legs.  After getting out of the bed itself, she quickly made her bed to avoid getting yelled at later for not having done so.  

           She opened her window and stuck her left arm out to get a feel for the weather.  _Sunny and mild, just like it was yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that… she thought with a slight twinge of bitterness.  The storm that occurred sometime during the night gave her hope that maybe – just maybe – the weather would be different than the warm sunshiny mornings she _always_ awoke too.  She loved the sun, but she hated the predictable So Cal weather.  If variety was the spice of life, a place named Sunnydale definitely didn't have it in its weather.  Among the residents, however, variety was definitely in abundance.  _

           She couldn't think of another place on the planet that had a mix of humans, witches, demons, and, of course, a Slayer.  Most of the town's populace tried to live in a fantasy world of normality, but normal wasn't for Dawn.  In fact, she fit right in with the abnormal.  She wasn't even human two years ago and now she was a flesh and blood fifteen-year-old hormone bomb.  Being created out of the Slayers' blood by some mystic monks to hide her from an insane god trying to get back to her hell dimension didn't really go very far in the sense of 'normality' on this world.  As far as she was concerned, that wouldn't be normal anywhere in the universe.  Although she felt completely alone in that regard, she also felt an underlying sense of pride for being so unique.

           Dawn retracted her arm and shook her head lightly to knock the sleepiness out.  Since she was up this early, she had time to take a long shower to ease her mind and properly prepare her for her day ahead.  She was positive Buffy wouldn't be up this early, she usually slept until the last possible moment until she was forced to get up to see Dawn to school.  Dawn paused and immediately regretted her phrasing, even if they were just thoughts.  

           Buffy may not be able to give her all the attention she may want, but she never doubted her sisters' love.  She definitely tested that more than a few times, but she never truly thought her sister was heartless.  Through everything, Buffy was the one person who would lay everything on the line for those she loved.  It took time and patience, but together they got through both the good and the bad.  And last year, her sister had even sacrificed her life to save hers.  

           So what if she was distant from her resurrection and spent most of her time either working at the Doublemeat or patrolling for the next Big Bad?  Buffy was paying the bills, keeping them in clothes, and was protecting the world.  She deserved all the sleep she wanted.

           Of course, Buffy would never know that.  She had to maintain her role as the bratty younger sister who craved attention to keep the status quo.

           Dawn gathered a change of clothes and her robe.  She quickly brushed out the tangles in her hair and made her way across the hall into the bathroom. Passing by her sister's room, she heard slight snoring and the occasional groan. She snuck a quick peek through the crack of the doorway.  Buffy liked her door closed, but ever since demons frequented her house, she had to be ready at all times to run to someone's aide.  Dawn saw Buffy mirroring herself just before she woke up this morning, her body twitching and face contorted in pain.  

_            Must be having nightmares, too._  Dawn considered waking her up, but quickly decided against it.  Buffy had gotten a massive dose of poison recently and it was in her system for well over two days before she even told anyone.  Apparently it deluded her to thinking she didn't belong in this reality and she was really a patient at a mental hospital with their Mom and Dad both alive and still together.  Then it took another day – not to mention the near deaths of all her friends and sister by these delirious hallucinations – before she finally took the antidote.__

           Stifling the quick shot of anger at not existing in that other reality, she retreated to the bathroom. _Not her fault, it was the poison._  But some how that didn't help her much.  She turned the shower on, slightly warmer than her normal tepid temperature, and tried to relax as she shut out the annoying voice in her mind that tried to tell her she was unloved and unwanted.

*~*~*~*~*~*

_Buffy__ was getting immensely bored with these vampires.  She had hoped this night on patrol would be something different, but as usual they just lined up at the edge of the cemetery as soon as the sun set and waited.  When Buffy showed up, they were already in full game face, waiting for her._

_            Just like every other night.  _

_Nothing different._

_Ever.___

_She sighed and held up her stake in front of her at arms length, waiting patiently for them to approach.  One by one, they walked up to her and threw themselves into the sharp piece of oak, piercing their hearts and immediately vaporizing into dust.  _

_            After the first ten, she was bored.  After the next twenty, she simply wiped the accumulated dust her stylish boots had received onto the grass.  Then after the next ten, she switched arms and checked her watch to see if her hour was up and she could go home.  No such luck, she still had thirty whole minutes to go.  _

_Then as if reading her mind, the dust seemed to stop flying.  She looked up to see if they were all gone, but she instead saw Spike.  He stepped closer to her, his eyes fixated deeply on hers as if searching for something hidden deep in her soul.  She pulled the stake away from him, not wanting to accidentally dust the one vampire she didn't mind having around.  He made things easier.  Even fun.  She shrank from his intensity as he approached even closer, his body mere inches from her petite frame.  His platinum blond hair radiated in the moonlight and formed an ironic halo over his demonic features._

_            "Spike? What are you–?" _

_            "It's okay, pet," he interrupted as he brought his hand up to her short hair and caressed the golden locks.  His game face melted away into the blue-eyed Englishman with perfect high cheekbones she knew all to well. "I'm here for you."_

_            Buffy looked confused at his words, but as his hand traveled from her hair to her lips, she nearly melted at his touch.  She knew this was wrong, so why did her body always react to his presence?  She closed her eyes and allowed herself a moment to relish his cool skin tracing invisible patterns over her face before she steeled herself against him. "Spike… Don't…"_

_            "Don't what, Slayer?  'Don't touch me' or 'don't go'?"  He closed the small gap between them, pressing his body into hers seductively. _

_            Her breath staggered as she felt him against her.  It had been so long since she felt him like this and there was no doubt that she missed it.  She fixed her gaze back on his eyes and found warmth she had never seen before.  He reached for her hands and took the stake from her, tossing it to the ground as he leaned into her, his lips grazing her ear.  _

_            "You're better than this," he whispered.  He licked her earlobe once before continuing. "Your calling is higher than these fools."_

_            She shivered. "I don't understand…"_

_He placed something in her right hand where her stake was.  It was small, lumpy, and roundish.  He brought her hands up between them and she looked at what he had given her.  A potato?  Of all the oddities he could have chosen, what in hell possessed him to give her this?  He looked over in the direction of the vampires still standing around and then nodded back to the potato in her hand.  "That's all they are, you know."  He took the potato from her hands and tossed it to the nearest vampire._

_Buffy__ closed her eyes once more as his hands started to massage the base of her neck and quickly forgot all about the weirdness that just occurred.  He knew exactly how to touch her and she missed it greatly.  When Buffy opened her eyes again, they were somewhere else.  She glanced around quickly and realized they had somehow ended up in his crypt.  _

_She opened her mouth to tell him to stop, but he took advantage of the situation and swooped down planting his lips on hers and forcing his tongue in her mouth.  She squirmed at first, trying to shove him away, but he held her tight and wouldn't let her budge an inch.  But her squirming quickly turned to embracing and even kissing the vampire back.  She felt the heat and desire from him and allowed herself to open up to it.  _Just one more time,_ she thought.  _Just once more…

_But just as quickly as she responded to his urgent kisses, he pulled away from her.  He held her in his arms still, her knees buckling under the surge of passion that coursed through her system.  She gulped in air trying in vain to calm herself as Spike placed his hand over her heart, feeling it race wildly beneath the surface, and smiled.  _

_"Thought I didn't affect you so much, Slayer."___

_"Don't let it go to your head," she replied.  She tried again to get out of his grasp, annoyed at how he spoiled the moment, but he held firm._

_"Too late for that."__ His thick British drawl accentuated the sexual undertones those four simple words held. _

_Finally calming her nerves and regaining her breath, she put on her best poker face. "Eww, much?  What the hell are you trying to pull, here?"  Before he could get the first words out of his mouth she spoke quickly again. "And you know what I mean, before you even go there."_

_He smiled.  She knew him too well.  "I told you, love.  I'm here for you."_

_"I thought I made it clear, Spike.  You need to leave me alone."_

_Spike quickly picked her up into his arms and she had to wrap her legs around his waist to keep from falling over.  She gazed into the clear sky blue eyes and saw the pain held there for the first time.  Before she could do anything, he was kissing her body again.  First her breasts, then her neck, and finally her lips.  The show of sudden force aroused her and she gave into her own desire.  She kissed him back, the passion hitting her with full force as she gave in once again.  They were locked in battle now, each wanting to bruise the other with the intensity of their lips.  His lips traveled back to her neck, sucking and licking the bare skin lightly as she gasped for breath._

_"And I thought I made it clear, too, Slayer…" he said hoarsely._

_She opened her eyes and he pulled back to face her.  She looked into the yellow eyes of a demon._

_"I'm here… for _you._"_

_Before Buffy even knew what was happening, Spike barred his fangs and let loose a predatory growl before lunging in for her throat.  _

_She didn't feel his razor sharp teeth bite into her flesh.  She didn't hear the audible gulping sounds as Spike drank deeply, trying to quench an insatiable thirst.  She didn't smell the musky scent of her own blood in the air.  All she could concentrate on was the sound of her own voice, screaming not in pain, but surprise and fear.  _

_He had really done it.  He had claimed his third Slayer. _

_And she had only herself to blame._

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Buffy!  BUFFY!"

Buffy's eyes snapped open and she immediately felt the presence of another.  In her half awake state, she couldn't see who it was, but the sensations of Spike's bite and her fear was still making her heart race as she gulped in the air she couldn't get before.  She buried her face in her hands and choked back the sobs threatening to start any moment.  When she felt arms starting to wrap around her neck, her mind flashed the image of Spike in her eyes.  Anger rose within her and instantly she made her choice.  She would not be his victim.  Not anyone's. 

She twisted sharply into her attackers side, pulling them below her as she pinned them from above.  She raised her fist in defense, but she stopped when she saw who it was. 

"Will?"

"Good morning to you, too," Willow managed to say although Buffy was gripping her neck rather tightly.

"Oh.  Sorry." Buffy was at a loss for words.  Realization dawned on her that she just attacked her best friend and could have easily killed her.  "_Really_ sorry…" She released her intense grip and got off from on top of the redhead.

Willow rose from the bed and massaged her throat.  She looked at Buffy and gave her the _I'm-too-cute_ smile she had perfected long ago. "Either you were having a bad dream or you've mistaken me for one of the creatures that go _bump_ in the night.  And, frankly, since Tara moved out there's been no _bumping_ in my nights."

"Over sharing," Buffy said.  She looked at her friend, still dressed in her orange and brown plaid pajamas, and smiled. "So what's on the Willow agenda for today?"

"Well," Willow crossed her legs and looked thoughtful before continuing. "I can check off the box next to _Make breakfast for Dawn since Buffy overslept_ not to mention the one next to _Get attacked by slumber Buffy._  So pretty much everything else seems moot by this point."

Buffy chuckled slightly. "How ever will you fill your day with more excitement?"

"I can only hope something interesting happens.  My classes were cancelled for today so I was thinking of asking Tara–"  

"Wait, Will.  You said I overslept?" Buffy interrupted.  She took her friends silence for a confirmation. "Oh God…  I was hoping to catch Dawn this morning before she took off for school." Buffy rolled her eyes and sighed heavily.

"Got a sudden jones to play house maker?"  Willow asked.

"No," she answered. "More like playing the _I-am-so-sorry-I-tried-to-kill-you-let-me-buy-you-a-Backstreet-Boy _routine.  Is she upset with me?"

"Not that I could tell.  I heard her getting ready earlier than usual this morning and when she finally came down for breakfast, she looked very distracted.  I asked her what was up and all she said was she didn't sleep well.  So I guess that's two for three this morning.  I kind of feel bad, now. I don't have a nightmare to join in the club."

Buffy smiled. "Oh yeah.  Just rub it in my face that you had good dreams."

"So…" Willow began, not wanting to pry, but still curious.  "Was this bad dream a _Buffy_ _Prophesy _dream or was it just the normal run of the mill poison induced hallucination?"

Buffy thought about her dream.  Even now some of the images were fuzzy, no doubt they'd all be gone soon.  She remembered the vampires and the image of them lining up to die.  And Spike.  She visibly shuddered at remembering exactly what happened between them.  The raw feelings he drew out of her.  And what was with that potato?  Maybe it was just an after effect of the poison; it really didn't make much sense otherwise.  

"I don't really know.  It was weirder than anything.  There were all these vampires that just lined up to get dusted, and Spike gave me a small potato."  She decided to leave off the part _after_ Spike gave her the potato.  So far only two people knew about Spike and her, and hopefully it could stay that way.

Willow just looked at her friend as if she had grown three heads. "Yeah," she finally said. "That is definitely weird.  You sure that's everything?  I mean it's not like that would make you call out in your sleep."

Buffy instantly became alarmed.  What had her mind vocalized without her permission?  Did Willow hear something? "What did I say?"

"Nothing really.  Just a lot of groans like you were in pain or something.  Then you started acting like you were choking, like you couldn't breathe.  That's when I woke you up and, well, you know after that.  What happened?"

Buffy quickly composed herself and covered as best as she could. "I must have been attacked by one of the vamps.  I don't really remember…"

"Well," Willow said comfortingly. "It sounds just like a bad dream.  I mean, you take on vampires everyday and with the poison altering your mental state for awhile, you would naturally dream of something that you are so connected too.  As for the bit about Spike and the potato, well, that's just wonky.  I don't think we have anything to worry about, do you?"

Buffy chuckled a bit. "Not unless Spike suddenly decides to start a potato farm."

Willow snapped her fingers. "Damn.  And here I was hoping something interesting happens.  No impending apocalypse unless Farmer Spike decides to make it a go."

Both women laughed together for the first time in a long while.

*~*~*~*~*~*

He was dead to the world.  Well, undead would be a better saying for the vampire sleeping soundly on top of the blankets of his bed in the lower depths of his crypt.  Any person walking into the old crypt and seeing the platinum blond haired man lying on the bed would definitely believe the man had died recently.  They would be wrong, of course, because he died over 120 years ago.  

The man that once was known as William the Bloody died in the late 19th century of severe blood-loss from two puncture wounds on his neck.  But his body still roamed the Earth, made possible by the demon residing inside.  He was no longer William the Bloody; he was now called Spike.  A vampire.  

And being a creature of the night, it wasn't unusual for him to be asleep during this time of day.  What was unusual, however, was the fact he didn't stir a muscle even though the door to his crypt banged loudly as someone entered in a hurry, letting the door slam shut, and heavy footfalls pounded on the stone floor as whoever it was descended to where he lay.

"Spike?  You awake?"

"No," he said simply, hoping the body attached to the voice would leave.  He simply wasn't in the mood and wanted to go back to sleep.

The portly demon looked confused as he scratched behind his drooping ear.  "You sure?"  He watched Spike's body lying completely still with his eyes closed.  Maybe he talked in his sleep?

"Absolutely, Clem.  I'm sound asleep."  He remained motionless for a few moments.  When he felt his friend still hadn't left, he added, "Go away."

"Aw, come on, Spike.  I need your help.  And you can't be asleep if you're holding a conversation with me."

"Can't fool you, eh?" Spike finally opened his eyes and took a breath as he sat up. "What's up, mate?"

As Spike reached for his discarded black shirt and pulled it on, Clement started pacing around the room. "I'm in trouble, Spike."

"So I gathered.  Want to get on with it so I can get some sleep this century? I had a hell of a night."

"What happened?" he asked, real concern edging his voice.  

"Buffy."  

Clem winced slightly and bobbed his head in a nodding fashion.  Whenever that name passed his friends lips, he knew it would be a long talk.  But Clem didn't mind hearing the vampire's troubles.  He found it fascinating that a vampire like Spike would fall so completely and hopelessly in love with the Slayer.  He shuffled his feet a little and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the bleached blond.  "So talk."

Spike almost laughed at the situation.  He never had a real friend like Clem before, never had someone actually taken the time to _ask_ him why he had a horrible night when he stated it.  Especially when they originally needed something from him.  Meeting him over at that bar where the kitten poker was held weekly was the best thing that had happened to him lately.  Even though he hadn't been around to play poker for a while, Clem still stayed in contact with him and even filled him in on what was going on in the demon world.  Clem was also the only one he could talk too about the whole Buffy situation.  Whenever Spike needed a drinking buddy, Clem was always happy to oblige.  He could honestly say that the wrinkly demon was one of a kind.

"You're the one who came here to talk, interruptin' my beauty sleep and all."  Spike knew he shouldn't have mentioned Buffy's name, now there was no way he was getting out of it.  Clem would badger him until the end of time to get Spike to talk about it.  As he guessed, Clem remained silent, waiting for him to spill on the details.  Spike sighed. "Bloody hell…"

He reached over to the stand next to his bed where his cigarettes and lighter lay.  He took one out, patted the blunt nicotine on the cellophane, and lit it as he took a long drag. Blowing out the smoke, he continued. "Ok, well, the Slayer got injected with a big dose of poison from some demon which made her start goin' all wacky.  She apparently didn't have the sense to tell anyone for a while, so it was in her system for a good two days before I met up with her.  We were doin' the small talk bit, then her bloody Scooby's come by and she starts actin' like I'm not good enough to even talk too!  So I get pissed…"

"Naturally," Clem interrupted.

"Anyway," Spike continued, choosing to ignore the comment from Clem. "So I'm going to leave when that ponce, Xander, decides to try and take on the Big Bad usin' his mouth.  I've never had a problem getting back at him, so we get into a bit of a spat and I hear Buffy askin' us to stop.  I look over and she's doubled over clutching her head."

"Oh no, is she alright?"

Spike sneered. "Yeah.  She's just peachy now.  But the other night she wasn't doin' so well.  I got worried so I tried to help.  Bleeding lot o' good that did me!  Her chums pushed me out of the way so _they_ could help her.  As if I weren't even good enough to be the dirt on her soddin' shoes!" He took another drag off his cigarette, feeling the anger return.

Clem shook his head sadly. "Humans.  They just don't get that demons are people too.  Well, most of us are."

"You're tellin' me.  You know, I should be used to it by now.  They've never thought I was anything more than just a soulless vampire, that I don't have feelings.  But I just…" Spike thought carefully for a moment before continuing. "The woman I love was gettin' sick before my eyes and I couldn't do a damn thing about it." He took another breath to calm himself. "So anyway, the next day I check in on her, to see if she's doin' any better.  Bein' all nice-like.  I just ask her how she is and you know what she says?  _You need to leave me alone.  You're not apart of my life."_

Clem chuckled slightly at hearing Spike imitate the Slayer but stopped as soon as he caught Spike giving him a look that loosely translated to "Laugh again and I'll snap your pudgy neck."  He coughed like his laugh was merely to loosen his throat. "Sorry to hear that, man."

Spike just shrugged his shoulders and leaned back against the head of the bed. "Just another excitin' day bein' love's bitch."

"You deserve so much better, Spike.  Someone who's not… Oh what's the word…?"

"Insane?" he offered.

"Well," Clem thought for a moment. "Yeah."

Spike smiled slightly. "You know.  After Dru, I swore off insane chits.  Then, with Harmony, I swore off annoyingly insane chits.  But you know what I've discovered?  There's no hope.  _All_ women are insane."

"Sounds like you got it bad for the Slayer, Spike."

"Not as bad as before.  You don't even _want_ to know how pathetic I was before I met you." Spike finished his cigarette and stubbed it out in the tin ashtray within his reach. "So," he continued. "You came here for a reason.  I told you what's on my mind, what's on yours?"

Clem lowered his head slightly and Spike swore he looked rather sheepish. "Well… You remember how I told you about that big game about a week back?  The one where the Boss himself played?"

"Yeah."

"I kind of… _embellished_ on my luck." Clem started picking at the non-existent lint on his pants and Spike knew something was up.

"How much do you owe?"

"Two sets of purebred Siamese."

Spike shook his head sadly as he winced. "When?"

Clem gave Spike his best sad puppy dog look. "Uh… Actually, about a week ago?"

Spike sighed.  It was going to be one of _those_ kinds of days.

_To Be Continued…___


	3. Lesson the Second

Lessons of the Heart

[Lesson the Second]

"The greatest pain that comes from love,  
Is loving someone you can never have"

                --Anonymous

"Hello?  Earth to Dawn." 

"Wha-huh?" Dawn asked, finally coming out of her trance.  Looking over the classroom, she noticed that only Janice was with her. "Where'd everyone go?"  
            "Probably to their houses, school _did_ just let out.  If you didn't become a charter member of the space cadet program then you might have noticed."

            Dawn stood from her desk and retrieved her backpack from the ground. "Sorry.  Didn't mean to space, really."

            "S'ok.  Just hurry up, I want to get away from this place."  Janice shifted her own backpack, taking the weight off her right shoulder. "I swear, if it weren't for you and a few others, school would just suck."  

            "Yeah, like a vampire."

            "Tell me about it," she continued, oblivious to Dawn's amusement.  Dawn collected her things and they walked from the room out into the deserted hallways.  Rounding the corners and pushing back the heavy grey doors, the two girls left the building and began their journey home. 

            "Tell me I didn't miss anything important." Dawn stated.

            "Well," Janice began, "I don't really know when you spaced out.  Mr. Lyche told us more about what he expects on our final papers, but other than that nothing much.  He did go off on another tangent, though.  I think he's going through a mid-life crisis or something.  Every other sentence was something about the importance of communication between men and women and how men can't be expected to be mind readers.  Probably just pissed off his wife and is in the dog house, and he's taking his pains out on us, the unsuspecting student body."

            "I remember the paper topics, but I don't even recall his tangents.  Must be when I went off to La-La land." Dawn sighed as she passed a line of neatly trimmed bushes, plucking off the greenery as she passed, leaving a line of broken branches in her wake.

            "What's with that, anyway?"

            "Just got a lot on my mind lately."

            Janice looked over at her friend. "Big-Sis still ignoring you?"

            Dawn shook her head.  Somehow she thought Janice wouldn't believe her if she told her that her sister tied her up and gagged her in the basement and then released a very large and maniacal demon to kill her and two other friends off. "Yeah," she lied, "it's getting a little better, but she still has more important things to do."

            Janice stopped dead in her tracks. "Dawn," she said, "I know things are difficult right now, but it will get better.  She can't ignore you forever.  Besides, if you want, you are always welcome over my house.  My family loves you."

            Dawn smiled, but it was hollow.  They walked in a comfortable silence until Dawn turned left onto Revello Drive and Janice continued forward.  As they parted ways, Janice turned backwards and faced Dawn. "By the way."

            "Yeah?" Dawn asked.

            "T.J. was staring at you all class period."

            "What?  He was watching me stare off into space?"

            "Yep."

            Dawn's eyes flashed and her smile became real. "See ya, Janice."

            "Laters, Dawnie." She turned her back and walked on, disappearing behind a line of oak trees lining the sidewalk.

            As Dawn neared her house, she couldn't get the image of Buffy tackling her to the ground the day she had tried to kill her.  Her eyes were so cold and detached, like she wasn't really there at all.  Was it Buffy that wasn't there or was Buffy the one trying to tell herself that Dawn wasn't really there?  She had cornered her in Willow's – no, their _mother's_ room – and, while trying to explain her self, had grabbed and restrained Dawn.  She had tried to talk to her temporarily insane sister, trying to calm her down, but nothing had worked.  What was it that she said? The words seemed to jumble and coalesce during the rush to escape, she couldn't remember anything except the fear her sister might actually hurt her.  

            Dawn had been so distracted by these thoughts today, even during class when she should be paying attention.  Her schoolwork couldn't suffer or those Social Services people would take her away from the only world she had ever known.  Buffy was her sister; her protector.  Nothing could ever come between that.

            As she turned and walked up the driveway to the front door, she idly wondered if Buffy would have gone through with the massacre if Tara hadn't intervened.  It was because of her that they could at least fight back and not just be packaged food delivery for the grotesque monster.  She hated to admit it, but she was almost to the panic point where she would have begged Willow to break her oath of magick celibacy; just _one_ spell to help them out.  Good thing she was gagged, or she would have been offering her everything she could if Willow just waved her witchy fingers and got them to safety.

            She approached the door and froze.  She had noticed Xander's car in the driveway and wondered if she should go in and interrupt; or simply leave them to talk and remain out of the way.  She could go visit Tara or Spike.  Maybe drop by Janice's house, after all she did get an invite; and Dawn wasn't even a vampire.  "Hi, sorry to bother you, but my friends are getting group therapy right now and I had a hankerin' for some Mexican food," she would say. "Can I stay for dinner?"  But somehow, she doubted Buffy would like her taking that kind of initiative.  She made a mental note to lecture Janice later about throwing out invites.  She turned the knob. 

_And Buffy thinks _her_ life is twisted…_

*~*~*~*~*~*

            Buffy twisted her short locks tightly and closed her eyes at the dull ache on her scalp.  It didn't hurt her.  It soothed her.  She sent a silent "thank you" to whatever power had influenced her manager to give her the day off.  But as happy as she was about not having to go into that smelly, decrepit, low-paying hellhole she called her job, she still couldn't get happy about cleaning the house.

            "Sure, Buffy.  Wait 'til Willow takes off in search of Tara to decide you're too bored to relax."  She emerged from the basement with a new stack of clean clothes and kicked the door shut.  She tossed the spring-scented garments to the kitchen table and headed toward the living room. "So what do you decide?  The house could use a bit of a touch up here and there.  Clothes need to be washed, counters need to be wiped down, hell, why not get that vacuum out of the closet and use it for once?  It won't be hard at all.  You don't need help."  

She clicked on the stereo and checked the CD tray.  "N'Sync?  Hell no." She took out Dawn's CD and rifled through the small collection beside system.  After a few moments, she finally decided to put in the Michelle Branch CD Willow had bought a few weeks ago and turned up the volume so she could hear it wherever she was in the house and went back to work.

            She went back into the kitchen and started folding the clothes. "So you're cleaning.  And after the first couple of hours, you find yourself talking to yourself in hopes of a stimulating conversation." Buffy sighed heavily and dropped into one of the chairs. "God, you're boring…" She eyed the phone across the room like it was a piece of candy. "Someone to talk too?  Other besides yourself?  Someone to reach out and let them know you even exist?"  She closed her eyes and leaned all the way back into her chair. "Even Spike would be nice to talk too right now…"  
            "So you gonna call me?  I think I'm a little better to talk too than the Bleached Wonder."

            Buffy's eyes popped open at the sound of another voice in the room and she jumped a bit, looking around.  Xander stood in the doorway.

"Unless you want to use the frying pan on me again, in which case, I'll get Spike myself," he finished as he walked over to the table.

            Buffy stood from the chair and hugged her friend. "Xander, God, you don't know how looney I was getting.  Well, not asylum-type looney, but definitely talking-to-myself-type looney.  Which could lead to the other type and I'm babbling again, aren't I?"

            "Buffy," Xander looked at her quizzically. "Have they been slipping cocaine into your breakfast?"

She smiled.  Count on Xander to make light of everything. "I'm fine.  I didn't hear you come in."

            "Well the music's up so loud that the People's Republic of China called me up to give their declaration of war against you."

            She gave a slight roll to her eyes and left to cut off the music.  When she returned to the kitchen, he was looking over the counter-tops and stove. "Xander?"

            He turned to her and gave her a small smile. "Just checking."

            "I am _very_ sorry about smashing your poor Xander-face with the skillet.  Really, I am.  How's the noggin?"

            "A fun night snuggling my Tylenol bottle and I'm no worse for wear." He hesitated slightly before continuing. "How are you doing, Buffy?"

            "I'm okay.  Willow thinks the poison's pretty much out of my system by now.  No more hallucinations, just the overwhelming guilt at almost killing you all.  That doesn't seem to be going away as easily."  
            Xander quirked his lips. "If it did, Buff, I'd be even more worried than I was the other day."

            "So you forgive me?"  

            "Just another wacky day livin' on a Hellmouth.  Don't worry, Buffy.  We're cool."

            "Great."  She went back to folding clothes. "Wanna help?  Willow's out and Dawn's at school, hopefully."

            He smiled. "Folding clothes?  Love too.  Any underwear you need folding?" 

            Buffy gave him a knowing smile. "Men.  No, this pile's just towels and shirts.  I did the delicates already to get them out of the way.  Jeans are drying as we speak."

            He reached out and grabbed a long-sleeved V-neck red silk shirt and attempted to fold it.  The first way didn't work; it would crease the long sleeves.  His next attempt was not any better.  After trying two more times, he finally admitted defeat, and looked to Buffy for help.

            Her smile grew wider. "This one's not meant to be folded, silly.  It gets the hanger to keep the wrinkles out."  With that said, she tossed him a hanger.

            "And you were going to tell me this when?" he asked.

            "After I got a few laughs of you trying to figure it out."  
            "Most of my clothes don't need hangers.  It's a standard rule in construction that if your clothes don't have at least twenty wrinkles in them, you're not a real man." He slipped the shirt onto the hanger easily and hooked it onto the edge of the table.  They sat in a comfortable silence for the remainder of the time as they just folded clothes.

            When all the clothes and towels were folded, Buffy leaned back against the chair and knew she had to ask. "So," she began, opting for the classic _Buffy-blunt_ approach. "Have you gotten in touch with Anya?"

            Xander's eyes suddenly lowered to the floor as he, too, leaned back against his chair.  When it came to the topic of his recently former lover, the wounds were still fresh.  He had managed to really screw up the rest of his life within the past few weeks and he only had to himself to blame. "Not through lack of trying…" Xander looked intently at his friend sitting across from him. "I've checked everywhere I can think of and nothing.  It's like she's just _pfft_! Disappeared off the face of the Earth."

            Buffy sighed and tapped Xander's hand with hers. "You'll find her."

            "When?"

            "When she wants to be found.  You can't just expect to find her whenever you want to find her."

            "I really screwed up this time." Xander lowered his eyes so she wouldn't see the glistening his eyes were keen on doing every time he thought about the situation.

            Buffy noticed his averted gaze and knew. "Well," she began softly, "what are you planning on doing once you find her?  Maybe things can be salvaged."

            "Anything.  Buffy, I love her.  I do!  It's just… things… got out of control and I freaked.  I never meant to hurt her." He looked back into Buffy's eyes so she could see the sincerity held in his words. "Do you think that two people who are so naturally different ever have a chance?  That a former evil demon and a human can beat the odds and find a bit of happiness carved out just for them?"

            Buffy was going to respond when his words hit her like a meteor.  _Boom!  We have impact on the surface of my twisted love life._ She struggled with herself on how exactly to answer his questions.  Should she comfort him in his time of need with reassuring positive tips that she herself didn't even believe or should she tell him what she really thought about the fairness of life and love?  Should she come clean about her trysts with her former mortal enemy-cum-avid lover?  Even though she and Spike were over, he wouldn't understand why she had yet another vampire between her legs.  Xander had always hated Angel, but she defended her feelings because of his soul.  How would she even begin to explain Spike to him?  To Xander, demons were demons.  _Black and white, don't confuse him with the facts of how a vampire saved me so many times from going back to that peace I had known in Heaven.  Don't distort the fact he's soulless and supposedly evil, yet has done more good lately than a trio of humans who were playing with forces they didn't understand._

She realized then that she had taken far too long in her response as she came out of her reverie and found Xander looking at her. "Buffy?  You there?"

            Buffy felt her face starting to burn with blush as she tried to calm herself. "Yeah.  Just spaced, that's all.  Sorry."

            "It's ok.  I shouldn't have gone off like that.  My bad."

            "Huh?"

            "Because of him."

            Buffy grimaced as she tried to follow his train of logic. "Still not getting clear reception.  Try fiddling with the wires a bit more, Xand."

            "Your ex-beau with the occasional overbite and obsessive demeanor." He waited a few more moments but it looked like Buffy just got even more confused. "Angel.  Hello?  Repressing memories or some such?  I mean, how many vampires have you been with."

            Buffy nearly laughed out loud at the irony of that statement.  And that's what it was; rhetorical question and _not_ an actual question.  Rhetorical was good right now.  No, Xander wouldn't find out and neither would anyone else.  It's in the past and as long as it stayed there, she'd be fine. _ Hell, _she thought, _I tried to kill them all and lookie here.  Everyone brushes it off as a case of the Hellmouth jitters._  She let out a small laugh, more to relieve tension than anything else, and smiled at Xander. "I'm guessing it's the cocaine.  You know how they say that it fries your brain and all.  I mean, duh, Angel.  Who else would there be…"

            Buffy heard the front door open and close as two feet thudded up the stairs.  Buffy looked over to the clock on the wall and noticed the time for the first time that day.  After school. "Dawn? Is that you?"

            The feet stopped abruptly.  After a moments hesitation she heard "Yeah.  Gotta ton of geometry and I wanted to get to it. Be up here if you need me."  The feet continued on their way up, but much more quietly this time.

            Buffy looked at Xander. "Dawn doing homework right after school?"

            "Dawn not coming in here to eat something first?"  
            They nodded in unison as the same conclusion formed in their minds. 

            "Something's up."

*~*~*~*~*~*

"I owe you." Clem smiled at the kittens and, after a moment, dropped the sheet back over, covering the wire-framed box.  He lifted the box by the handle, careful not to jostle the tiny Siamese.

"Damn right you do."

            "What did you have to do?" he asked as Spike lit up another cigarette and took a long drag.

            "Needn't concern yourself, mate."

            Clem didn't like the sound of that, but he had better sense than to keep asking Spike stupid questions.  He had noticed the small blisters on his hands; he figured they were from an exposure to sunlight.  Clem felt bad for getting Spike out in the sunlight, but he just didn't know what else to do.  Besides, a little pig's blood and those blisters would heal right up, making his skin perfect once again. "I'll give these to the Boss tonight, thanks so much."

            "Don't like seein' my friends getting their wrinkly, loose skin all stretched out.  Torture tends to happen when that man isn't paid off nice and proper like. You'd never survive, Clem."

            Clem nodded.  _No wonder Spike stopped coming around for poker.  I wonder if he had a "personal eperience" with the Boss?_ "Yeah, well, won't happen again.  I swear."

            "How'd it happen this time?  I mean, you got all those nifty folds of flesh to hide an ace or four."  
            "Forgot."  
            "You forgot?" 

            "Yeah.  I was watching a marathon of _Miami Vice_ that day and I forgot about stocking up before heading out.  I lost big-time trying to play fair with that X-Ray eyed toad." Clem walked to the door of Spike's crypt and stopped just before opening the door. "What're your plans for the rest of the day?"

            Spike shrugged, he hadn't really thought that far ahead. "It's too late to be getting back to sleep, the sun will be setting soon and the Slayer will probably be out on patrol."

            "Didn't you say she was poisoned?"

            "She'll be too restless.  She'll need to kill somethin' before the nights over.  Take more'n a few fledglings to keep her down, even if she is recuperatin'."

            Clem winced slightly. "Just make sure it isn't you."

            A sly grin crept onto Spike's face. "Never has been before. 'Sides, we need to talk about this situation so I'm probably goin' to go out and find her."

            "Doesn't she want you to stay away?" 

            "Does it look like I care?  She's _always tellin' me to stay away one minute and jumping my bones the next.  I don't think even she knows just what's goin' on in that dense head of hers half the time."_

            Clem nodded in understanding and opened the door. "Oh," he paused in the remaining glimmers of fading daylight.  He motioned toward the covered cage in his hands. "Thanks again.  Sorry I woke you, have a good night!"

Spike held back his grin as he watched his loose-skinned friend walk out of the crypt while hiding his self in the folds of the crypts shadows.  Clem was definitely one of a kind. He flicked the remainder of the cigarette into one of the dusty corners and looked up to the barred windows.  It would be night time soon; time for the demons of the Hellmouth to come out and play.

And, hopefully, a beautiful blond Slayer would cross his path.

_To Be Continued…_

**A/N: I know I've mainly been writing "scene's" about what's going on and not really getting to the plot, but it is coming.  Soon.  Possibly next chapter, even.  I just had too much trouble getting it started in this one, so it's being pushed back.  What these first two chapters are doing is called "setup."  **

- Also, I ask forgiveness for saying I'd post this chapter last Wend., but things just got out of hand in reality.  My computer started smoking crack and then became an addict, but it's now on a twelve step program of recovery and hopefully will be back to working soon.  I'll have the next chapter up, hopefully, next Sunday.  I'm trying for a weekly deadline.


End file.
